


Consequences

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [127]
Category: Agent Carter (Marvel Short Film), Agent Carter (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Nightmares, Protective Daniel Sousa, Protective Jack Thompson, Protective Peggy Carter, vernon masters is the actual scum of the earth and i despise him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: There are always consequences. Whether you can see them or not. Sometimes they're enough to keep you in line. Sometimes they aren't.
Relationships: Daniel Sousa/Jack Thompson, Peggy Carter & Daniel Sousa & Jack Thompson, Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa, Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa/Jack Thompson, Peggy Carter/Jack Thompson
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [127]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 3
Kudos: 81





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> tryna muddle through the mess s2 left us in ain't easy but we trying. had to get these guys over the hump before we can start anything else

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: Hi! I absolutely love your works, and I was just wondering if there were going to be more more works to this series or if this was the last one? Keep up the fantastic work! You're so talented!! - dani_girl7

* * *

The thing about it was that Jack _knew_ he could’ve stopped it.

He could’ve left. He could’ve made an excuse. He wouldn’t have been stopped. It probably wouldn’t have been mentioned ever again.

But there would have been consequences. People could’ve gotten hurt. The SSR could’ve been hurt. He had to pay his dues, keep the purse open. Do what the others wouldn’t do for the greater good. That was the point of the SSR, wasn’t it? Doing what needed to be done for the good of the world?

He also knows he’s a coward. There are consequences that would affect _him,_ only him. And those ones terrify the hell out of him. And it’d be too easy to just…stay here. Let what’s been working for so long keep working.

Big muckety-muck of the next big thing.

The Golden Boy.

Jackie-Boy.

_Pretty._

He wakes up with a gasp, his hand over his chest, aching like he’s just been fucking shot again. He swings his legs out. Lands hard on his feet. Immediately falls back because _he’s still recovering from being shot._ Hunches over with a hand on his chest. Presses hard. Hard. Harder.

“Jack? Jack!”

“Jack, can we come in?”

Jack swallows. Clenches his jaw. “Yeah.”

The lock turns. The door opens. Peggy and Daniel stand in the doorway, obviously holding each other back. Jack gives them a small smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Jack,” Daniel says softly, “can, uh, can we come in?”

“Already said you could. didn’t I?”

Peggy slips around Daniel and makes for the bed, falling to her knees at Jack’s side, her hand replacing his on his chest. “Are you alright? Do we need to take you to the hospital?”

“Chest’s fine.”

Peggy raises an eyebrow as Daniel sits on the bed next to him. She nods at his hand, still pressed hard to his sternum.

“It’s fine,” Jack repeats, “I just—it—“

She seems to understand, at any rate, carefully prying Jack’s hand away from his chest and replacing it with her own, pressing firmly enough that the weight helps him breathe but not too much that it hurts. He shudders as Daniel starts lightly rubbing his back.

“Nightmare?”

Jack nods. Not for the first time that day, he thanks whatever higher power there may be that he’s with these two. They understand nightmares, even if they’re not his.

“Would you like to talk about it or be distracted from it?”

Jack shuts his eyes tight. He wants to have this demon ripped out of his head, that’s what he wants.

A softer hand takes his and starts running a thumb over his knuckles. He opens his eyes to see Peggy’s bright red nails and his own white knuckles. He didn’t even realize he was holding on so tightly.

They’ve initiated all the handholding so far, his turn. He glances over at Daniel, willing his other hand to stop shaking as he slowly turns it palm up, laying on his knee, hoping it’ll be enough.

Daniel’s hand is warm. So warm.

“It won’t leave this room,” Daniel murmurs, "not if you don’t want it to.”

Jack huffs a laugh. “Wish I could believe that.”

“...Jack?”

Ah. Right. That probably came out wrong.

“Not you two,” Jack sighs, “I know…I know you’d keep it secret.”

Peggy relaxes a little, still looking worried. He takes another deep breath.

It’s late. He has no _idea_ what time it is. Peggy must’ve turned on the bedside lamp as she came in. It bathes the room in soft light, letting it chase away some of the shadows. He feels a little like a kid again, his parents coming in to tell him the monster under the bed isn’t real.

He wants to say something. Anything. Just to get himself _talking._ But he doesn't know how to start or where to start and if he starts he’s not sure he can stop.

_This is stupid, just fucking talk, you know how._

_What’s the point in you having a voice if you’re not going to use it?_

_Or are you too much of a coward?_

“Jack,” Daniel calls softly, “Jack, look at me.”

He can’t say no to Daniel. He looks. Daniel’s staring at him all soft features and concerned expressions, holding Jack’s hand like he’s something precious.

_Pretty, isn’t he?_

Jack’s eyes slam shut and he growls. Daniel squeezes his hand tightly.

“Whatever it’s saying,” Peggy’s voice says sharply, “do not listen to it. You stay here with us, Jack Thompson.”

Yes, ma’am. He forces his eyes open, staring at nothing, fighting to stay here, now, holding onto their hands like it’s a lifeline.

“Good,” Peggy says, “now, Daniel and I have…an idea about what’s been happening.”

“We wanna help, Jack,” Daniel says quietly, “and we’re gonna need you to let us. If you want.”

Jack wants. He wants so badly it might just kill him.

“Okay,” Daniel murmurs, “can I ask you a question?”

“…you just did, didn’t you?”

“Fair enough,” he laughs, “can I ask you another after this one?”

Jack nods.

“Does this have anything to do with what happened on the couch a few weeks ago?”

_Right._

The best and worst day since Jack got out of the hospital. The day he almost ruined absolutely _everything_ and the day Peggy and Daniel welcomed him into their lives. Properly.

Peggy still tastes like warm Bergamont.

Daniel still tastes like cinnamon.

A desperate part of him wants to know if he still tastes like New York rain.

Jack nods, trying not to pull away, brush it off, say he’s fine. He…they’re so _warm,_ they’re so kind. If he shuns their kindness…

Consequences. It’s always about consequences, isn’t it?

While he’s been having his crisis, Peggy and Daniel seem to have been doing that thing where they have an entire conversation without saying a single word out loud, because when he tunes back in, Peggy’s murmuring something about a drink—nonalcoholic—and leaving with a kiss on Jack’s forehead. Daniel takes his other hand and pulls him close, resting their foreheads together. It’s soft and it’s tender and there’s so much intimacy wrapped up in the gesture that Jack doesn’t know how to deal with it. He’s never had…this. Never had softness, never had tenderness, not like this.

_No, you never minded it rough, did you, Jackie-Boy?_

He can’t help the twitch in his jaw.

“Shh,” Daniel soothes when he feels Jack’s hands clench, “I’m right here. Peggy’s on her way back, it’ll be alright.”

Sure enough, Peggy returns a few moments later with steaming mugs. She sets on down on the bedside table for Daniel and carefully cups Jack’s fingers around another. She keeps the third one for herself, sitting on the footstool she drags over.

“It’s just tea,” she says, taking a sip of her own, “non-caffeinated.”

Jack takes a sip reflexively, only to find out that…well, it’s mostly tea.

Peggy winks at him over the rim of her mug and he smiles at her. God, he loves that woman.

“When I was in the army,” Peggy says, startling both of them, “I was told that it would be…easier for me to do my job if I stayed where I was good.”

Jack frowns. Peggy…she looks _scared._

“They told me it would be easier,” she murmurs into her mug, “easier than being…back at home. Because everyone would be too busy fighting to…do anything else.”

She swallows. “They were wrong.”

She looks up and her eyes burn. “They tried to tell me it would be easier because of how the command structure was set up. That it would be easier one everyone if I just…went along.”

Jack’s mouth almost drops open.

“My sisters told me,” Daniel says, causing Jack to whip his head around, “that you can pretty much always tell from looking at how they look at other people. I…I didn’t really know what they were talking about until I saw how one of my COs looked at me after I lost my leg.”

No. No, no, no, not Daniel. Not Peggy.

They both let him pull them closer, into a tight hug until all of their arms hurt and the protective beasts in their chests have been sated.

  
Jack swallows heavily.

Then he tells them.

He tells them everything.

Vernon Masters made his home in dark corners and shadows, where the shame and horror kept him safe.

No more. Not again.

There are always consequences, even after you’re dead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine. 
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


End file.
